


The Vampire Morgan

by stew (julie)



Category: The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across The 8th Dimension (1984)
Genre: Anne Rice vampires, F/M, M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1988-07-16
Updated: 1988-07-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:49:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22197346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/stew
Summary: Rawhide has been brought back from the dead, with the help of the Black Lectroids. He knows life with his beloved Buckaroo, and he knows death – but when he and Buckaroo meet the intriguing Morgan, Rawhide realises there’s still more to know.
Relationships: Buckaroo Banzai/Rawhide





	The Vampire Morgan

**Author's Note:**

> **First published:** in my zine “Samurai Errant: Cavalier Tales Quixotic and Profane” #1 on 16 July 1988. Reprinted in the zine "Dyad: The Vampire Stories" #2 in 1992.

# The Vampire Morgan 

♦

“Good heavens, Tommy, take off your sunglasses! It’s not as if half the people here won’t recognize Buckaroo.” 

“Felicia, these are very cool-looking shades,” Perfect Tommy retorted.

“Well, you look merely foolish, seeing as it’s midnight and we’re entering an extremely dimly-lit nightclub.”

“Sweet Felicia, I’ll take them off simply to see you better.” 

“Humbug!” she cried with a laugh. 

Being six foot three and Buckaroo’s sidekick does definitely have its advantages. I spotted a table for the four of us over the heads of the crowd, and the bartender had a couple of bottles of champagne for me almost before I’d asked her. “Nice to see you again, Rawhide,” she said. 

“Nice to be back again,” I told her. She was referring to the fact that Buckaroo had let the world know that Sam, McIlvaine and I had died at the hands of the Red Lectroids, and meanwhile had put us in cryogenics while consulting with the Black Lectroids on a way to revive us. Obviously he was successful, so he sent the three of us against Xan under the ultimate cover – death. The door indeed swings both ways. 

“Ah, that’s the ticket!” exclaimed Buckaroo after quickly downing the first glass. And then the music started again, good and loud. It was a New York group called Morgan’s Mourners; regulars here at Club Avant Noir, possibly due to the fact that they invariably and appropriately dressed in black. They played the oddest combination of rock and blues that I’d ever heard – not your traditional blues, you understand, but still highly infectious. People poured onto the dance floor, Perfect Tommy and Felicia included.

Amidst the pulsing colored lights, the pounding rhythm, other people came up to Buckaroo with all the usual requests and comments. “Can I have your autograph?” – “I was reading your article on the forces in the atom, and…” – “Rawhide, I was so glad to hear you were OK after all.” – “Your new album is great, but…” – “If you’re looking to party tonight…” 

That last one was a particularly gorgeous woman, but Buckaroo turned her down gallantly, talking to her of other things. The gentlemanly Buckaroo dealt as politely as ever with his legion of fans, who in turn politely let him be after a short while. 

Tommy and Felicia returned, which brought out a few more fans, but Tommy appeared to have eyes, ears and small talk for Felicia alone. “No, really – a day in spring with your cornfield hair and blue-sky eyes, your laughter like a fountain, your creamy skin like –” 

“Now you’re really being ridiculous,” she quite rightly told him. 

“If you say so. I am too bewitched to know.” 

“And what brought all this on?” 

“The merest hopeless hope that you find me a little pleasing.” 

“I find you a little buffoon…”

“And we have in our midst tonight,” Morgan, the lead singer of the band, announced without warning, “some of my more successful rivals on the local pubs and clubs circuit – people who need no introduction – Buckaroo Banzai and my favorite Hong Kong Cavaliers.” 

The whole place erupted in applause, for which Buckaroo blushed and smiled broadly. Perfect Tommy stood and waved until Felicia abruptly pulled him down. 

“He might think he’s here incognito, blues lovers, but as we spotted him, maybe he’ll sing a number for us,” Morgan continued. 

“Come on, Felicia, help me out,” said Buckaroo, grabbing her hand and heading for the stage. “Hey, Morgan, remind me to do this to you next time you come to see the Cavaliers.” 

“Any time,” Morgan replied with a grin. “What will you grace us with?” 

“How about your ‘Vampiric Love-Struck Blues’?” 

“Ah, I’m touched.” 

“Let’s Rock and Roll!” Buckaroo yelled, and the audience agreed wholeheartedly. My heart, as usual, skipped a few beats and slammed into overdrive, seeing him up there on stage. Even when I was onstage with him, he had this effect on me. 

Perfect Tommy’s gaze lingered on Felicia singing her heart out between the enigmatic Morgan and our own Buckaroo. “Man, she’s _something_.” And he was right, the three of them up there all so beautiful and full of life. “ _Man_ , she’s something,” Tommy said again, sounding a little awed. 

“She’s also recently engaged to Billy, Perfect Tommy. Don’t you think it’s poor taste, if nothing else, to suddenly be attempting her seduction?”

“Rawhide, you sound like my granny.” 

“Be that as it may, the three of you are friends, and you owe it to Buckaroo to stay that way.” 

“You’re serious, aren’t you? Managing me like you manage the laundry roster.” 

“Someone has to,” I answered drily. 

“I’ll tell you, friend,” Perfect Tommy said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Felicia is a wonderful person. And I don’t want to see her throwing herself away in a marriage she won’t be happy in.” 

“What makes you think Billy and Felicia won’t be happy?” I figured they were devoted to each other, plus levelheaded enough to make a marriage work.

Perfect Tommy sat back again and nodded knowingly. “I have reason to believe she is in two minds about who she’s really attracted to.” 

“Good grief, Perfect Tommy, you’d think the Queen Mother was attracted to you if she so much as glanced in your general direction.” 

“The Queen Mother _is_ attracted to me,” he said, nose in the air. “But Felicia did even more than glance. Believe it.” 

“Perfect Tommy, if you mess things up between her and Billy, I’ll have your hide if they don’t first. Felicia sure ain’t acting interested in you tonight.” 

“I have good reason to think she is.” 

“I guess you must do, seeing as you’ve been desperate enough to come to Felicia’s aerobics classes.” 

“Just trust me! Don’t I deserve that? And doesn’t Felicia deserve me making sure that she’s doing the right thing?” 

I snorted. “I think the pertinent point here is that Felicia can look after herself. But if you cause _any_ trouble…” 

“OK! OK! Give me the benefit of the doubt, why don’t you?” 

“I’ve done that too many times, Perfect Tommy. Too many times.” But I was mostly kidding him. 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence!” Perfect Tommy exclaimed indignantly. He opened his mouth for a further retort, but Buckaroo and Felicia had returned. “You sang beautifully, sweet angel,” he said instead. 

“Thanks!” Buckaroo replied. 

“Not you, you fool.” Tommy looked distinctly exasperated. “Felicia dear, I’m having a great deal of trouble being taken seriously here. How about you and me trotting on down to Momma Lou’s?” 

“OK, sure.”

“Felicia, Morgan’s coming over later. He’ll want to compliment you on your singing, too,” Buckaroo put in. 

“Tell me about it tomorrow. I’m having too much fun trying to deflate this loon’s ego.” And with a twinkle of her eye over her shoulder, Felicia followed Tommy to the door. “Goodnight!” 

I was as happy as I’d ever been then, alone with Buckaroo and the champagne. He held my hand over the table, his blue blue eyes shining. I think he’d really enjoyed singing with Morgan’s Mourners. He was talking to me of some new song he was writing, and it was all for me.

The bartender brought over another bottle of champagne. “On the house, to celebrate your return to us, Rawhide!” 

I couldn’t stop smiling. Buckaroo leant over to plant a lover’s kiss on my cheek. Now, he’d never hidden the fact that we were lovers, but neither was he the most demonstrative person, even among our friends. Maybe he was rewarding me for smiling – he says he always has to put a lot of hard work into making me smile. That’s a lot of baloney of course –

“It’s a shame to be interrupting…” I looked up, and there was Morgan with his white-blonde hair and deep brown eyes laughing. “You make such a lovely picture. It’s a pity to intrude!” 

“Nonsense, sit down,” Buckaroo was saying, and he poured Morgan a glass of champagne. “That was a great gig. Why aren’t you playing the Garden rather than dives like this?” 

“Same reason as you – I love playing dives like this. This is where our music belongs.” 

They talked on about music, one veteran to another, and I grabbed Buckaroo’s hand in mine again. There was something distinctly odd about Morgan, something I’d never quite put my finger on. Something about his palest skin, his fluid dancer’s moves, the accent I could never place, the confidence and disdain in his eyes. And there was something else tonight, something that wasn’t so odd at all. He wanted Buckaroo. 

Buckaroo – being, of course, the most beautiful man in the world – often found himself propositioned. And there was a pervasive sensuality about Morgan which made me think that Morgan wouldn’t be turned down tonight. He talked on, gazing at both of us with his all-seeing eyes, smiling a little, talking low to Buckaroo and charming the pants off him. 

The champagne was almost finished. “I have some on ice back at my hotel room,” Morgan almost purred, looking on Buckaroo. And then he’d disappeared to finalize payment or whatever business with the manager here. 

“I’ll be heading back home,” I told Buckaroo. 

“Why? Don’t you want to go on to Morgan’s, love?” 

“No, that’s OK, you go ahead.” 

“Don’t be silly. If you weren’t so untrusting, you’d know he’s busy seducing you, too.”

“It’s you he wants.” 

“Well, if he wants me, he gets you too, lover. That’s the deal.” 

I just looked at him. “You’re a free man, Buckaroo.” 

“I know. But you should know that you’ve got me so smitten that I don’t want anything I can’t share with you. Let’s at least go drink his champagne.” 

“OK. It’s just that he’s odd. The truth is I wouldn’t be happy with you going alone, because I don’t trust him one inch.” 

“I don’t either. But I want to know what it is, this oddness. I can’t pick it, and he’s got my curiosity aroused.” 

“And that’s not all, I’ll bet.” 

“Rawhide!” he laughed. “You wicked creature. I didn’t think you had it in you.” 

“You know exactly what I’ve got in me,” I said to him real low, giving him my best simmering look. I was pleased to see he responded the same as ever, his blue eyes hot and all mine. “Let’s go drink his champagne, then.” 

“OK, sweet thing.” 

“I’ll bet it’s good stuff – you can’t say this guy doesn’t have good taste!” 

“And a great deal of money, too.” We eyed Morgan’s beautiful well-cut clothes jealously as he came back to us. 

“Well, come on, you two beautiful people,” Morgan said. “The night is young, and all that.” 

Buckaroo held my hand even as we walked outside through the late-night revelers, even as people recognized us, even as Morgan flirted unceasingly with him. We strolled the five or six blocks to Morgan’s hotel through the bewitching night, past the women dancing bare-shouldered in the streets, the men with them looking on lazily, hungrily. And I found that Buckaroo was right – though he was concentrating on the beautiful Buckaroo, Morgan was working his seductive charms on me too. 

The thought almost made me laugh. It was highly amusing that anyone would bother much with me when they had Buckaroo to flirt with. Buckaroo was gracefully accepting Morgan’s compliments and caressing glances, all the while at ease in showing his love for me. Buckaroo had rarely looked quite so lovely, with his blue eyes glowing, his expression content yet anticipating, his whole body moving sensually through the warm night air beside mine. Doing nothing more than being at his loveliest, Buckaroo was seducing me a thousand times more effectively than Morgan at his best. 

Morgan was staying at the Mahalla el Kubra, a place where Buckaroo and I could hardly afford to walk in the front door, let alone buy a drink. And it was beautiful, I can tell you. All an odd combination of Ancient Egyptian and Art Deco, which sounds frightful but looked amazing. Morgan’s room was turquoise, gold and black, and sumptuous. Buckaroo, as cool as ever, looked like he belonged there. Me, I stood fidgeting with my hat in my hands, wondering which knick-knack I’d clumsily manage to break first. 

We were given a few moments in which to adjust. Morgan was ignoring us and pottering about, setting the lights to Dim Romantic, uncorking a bottle of promisingly expensive-looking champagne. Buckaroo sat on the accommodating sofa, and pulled me down with him, nestling into my arms. OK, I figured, Buckaroo’s out to enjoy himself here, and why not? It wasn’t often that I got to make love with him amidst such splendor. 

Now Morgan sat opposite us, presiding as eloquent host over our little tête-à-tête. Buckaroo sat back in my arms, warm and loving, laughing gently at Morgan’s jests, at his stories, at his extravagant compliments. Maybe it was the champagne, but I found myself drifting off into sleep, into daydreams. 

I tried to stay awake because Morgan seemed odder than ever. His brown eyes seemed like gemstones, hard and clear, tiger-eyes cutting through me and my defenses. But Buckaroo was warm and at ease, and I was blessedly comfortable half-lying across the sofa. Slowly I drifted into the dim twilight world of dreams. 

… Buckaroo was lying waiting for me on my bed. He was naked, propped up on his elbows, grinning delightfully. “Hey, when did we afford the black satin sheets?” I asked him. 

“We just used your excellent imagination,” he replied. 

“No, no, no. I wouldn’t have put initials on the pillows. That’s far too kitsch.” 

“OK – it’s your dream!” And the embroidered pink R and BB vanished as if they were never there. “Come here, lover.” Obligingly, I slithered over the sheets to him, before rolling over and over with him in my firm embrace. “Rawhide… 

“Rawhide!” There was alarm in his voice and, as I looked down at him, his skin seemed so pale and his eyes were startled, calling for me. “Rawhide, please –” 

I tried to open my eyes, knowing somehow that I was still dreaming and that Buckaroo needed me awake. It was a battle to open them even a little. I vaguely saw Morgan sitting on the other side of Buckaroo, kissing him, pulling him slowly from my arms. I seemed powerless to hold onto him. 

That was the only thing that gave me the strength to fight. 

Buckaroo’s alarm had vanished, and in its place there was a glowing sensuality finding satisfaction in Morgan’s kisses. If Buckaroo had remained worried. I would have found the strength to do something there and then. 

As it was, I struggled to keep my eyes open, and forced myself to slowly sit up, worried only about my own inabilities. Surely I hadn’t drunk so much champagne that I had now lost all movement, all balance? 

I didn’t feel drunk, anyway, I simply felt like I should be asleep and dreaming. Slithering over black satin sheets with my beloved Buckaroo in my arms. And I knew somehow that this feeling came from Morgan. 

He had drawn Buckaroo closer into his arms, his kisses deepening, and he seemed to pay less attention to me. I groggily sat up straight, looking to Buckaroo. He lay unresisting in Morgan’s embrace, moaning contentedly as Morgan bent a little to nuzzle at his neck. I smiled sleepily, knowing how Buckaroo enjoyed such kisses. 

But my stomach knotted up cold as Buckaroo’s head fell back and I saw that while he was quite happy, he was just as helplessly sleepy as me. I had never trusted Morgan, even when we both had all our faculties functioning, and I was alarmed to realize we were now both in his power. 

I tried to stand, and I think I only could because Morgan was concentrating more and more on Buckaroo’s unknowing loving and less and less on me. As I stood I tried to say something, and failed. 

Then I saw blood red on Buckaroo’s white neck, and that gave me all the fear and anger I needed to take Buckaroo in my arms and pull him from the sofa and Morgan’s awful intent. Holding Buckaroo close, I stepped back, dragging him with me, as I stared at Morgan’s dazed and hungry expression. He had a little of Buckaroo’s blood on his lips. 

I still wasn’t thinking clearly, and even if I had been I would have hesitated to jump to the obvious conclusion. All I knew was that this person wanted to hurt the most precious being in the world. Gently, I set the still sleepy Buckaroo in a chair beside me, and glanced at his neck. To my untutored eye, the two little wounds seemed already to be healing. He was not bleeding much, at least. I turned my attention to Morgan. 

He had drawn himself up, shaken off the sensuality, and now stood there hard, glittering and angry. Figuring that in some situations, just as attack is the better part of defense, bullheadedness is the better part of attack, I put my head down and charged him, intending to pick him up and slam him into the further wall. 

However, instead of picking him up, I found myself slamming into him as if he was a remarkably solid and immovable stone statue. Then, with a mere flick of his hand, Morgan sent me sailing back past Buckaroo to crash heavily into an elegant little table. 

I staggered to my feet, knowing only that Morgan posed a threat to my lover. I was all ready to run at him again, when Buckaroo called weakly, “Stop!” I paused, and moved around so that I could see him and keep an eye on Morgan at the same time. “Were you going to kill me?” Buckaroo asked Morgan pointblank. 

Morgan looked rather taken aback. “No.”

“Are you planning on harming my friend or I?” 

“Well, that depends on you two, I suppose. Anyone else, I might just kill out of hand in such a situation.” 

“Rawhide, come and sit by me. I don’t think there’s anything we can do right now but talk.” 

I hovered beside Buckaroo, unwilling to let this fiend go unpunished. “If you try to hurt him again,” I said to Morgan, “you’ll have to deal with me first. And that would be more trouble to you than you think.” 

He nodded at me politely, respectfully, and I knew my words were mere bluff. There was nothing I would be able to do against such strength. He could pick me apart as an entree before moving on to my dear delicious Buckaroo. 

Morgan sat composedly opposite us, taking up his glass of champagne. As he sipped from it, a drop of blood turned it pink. Seeing this, he fastidiously licked his lips, unembarrassed. 

I crouched beside Buckaroo’s chair, holding one of his hands in mine, checking the healed wounds on his neck, all the while eyeing Morgan warily. 

“You’re a vampire?” Buckaroo asked. I started at the word, but I suppose it was fairly obvious. Buckaroo was never one to let his disbeliefs get in the way of the truth. 

“Yes.” 

“Like in the movies? In the books and comics?” 

“Well,” Morgan considered this with a small smile, sitting very contained and calm. “Not the movies, anyway. Anne Rice got it almost right, but left out some of the good bits like eating and having sex and only sleeping for two or three hours a day. If you combined all the best bits from _The Vampire Lestat_ and Jody Scott’s _I, Vampire_ , you’d have it almost right.” 

“Do you kill?” 

“No, nothing so sordid. A lot do, of course. Vampires traditionally have, though this century has made it harder and harder to get away with murder. But for me, a little blood every night, harming no one – Actually, my victims enjoy it. Didn’t you?” 

“Yes,” Buckaroo answered. “Are you immortal? How long have you been alive?” 

“As far as I know, yes. And I was born as a mortal ln 1823.” 

“I want to know everything. How this happened, what this is. The things you’ve seen. Imagine, Rawhide, what this man has seen in his life.” 

“I wish I could believe he’s a fraud,” I muttered, refusing to get caught up in Buckaroo’s excitement. The scientist in him, the child and the adult and the poet in him – all were fascinated by this fiend. And who could blame him? But all I could think about was that Morgan was unlikely to let us leave this hotel room alive, now that we knew his secret. I saw now, that if I hadn’t fought so against the trance, that Morgan would not have harmed Buckaroo, that we would never have realized the truth, that we would even now be safe, remembering only seduction. 

“You’re quite right, Rawhide,” Morgan said, startling me utterly. “If it wasn’t for your loyalty and love for Buckaroo, you would have both remained safely ignorant. But maybe, with such beings as yourselves, an agreement can be made. After all, you have secrets and mysteries that I yearn to know just as Buckaroo yearns to know mine.” 

“What would they be?” I asked suspiciously. 

“Why, Rawhide, you are as the undead yourself. You died and were brought back to life by your lover, for whom you would die again tonight. I long to know what it was you found on the other side of the grave.” 

I bowed my head, silent. Buckaroo said quietly, “He has not spoken even to me of it. Please leave him be.” 

“If that is my price for letting you go free tonight? My secrets for yours?” 

“Then I will pay it,” I whispered thickly. Sam, McIlvaine and I had shared the same experience, and had told no one of the secrets we had learned, nor spoken to each other about it. I believe we are the first people to have been dead for so long before being revived, though there are many people who have been resuscitated within minutes of their death who speak of travelling towards the light, the ultimate. That wasn’t even the beginning of it. Some people, even my closest friends, choose to ignore the whole issue and pretend I’d merely been ill. Other people, even complete strangers, wanted to know every intimate detail. I denied them all. I overheard Sam once telling Reno that he had forgotten it all, that he remembered nothing. He was so emphatic, I think he was trying to convince himself as well. Me, I’d thought of telling people, at least my friends. But I realized then that people had to find out these truths for themselves. It was all far too important for me to put into words. Words that could be misunderstood, that would not express the truth anyhow, that would end up guiding my friends’ lives, right or wrong. “So be it. I will tell you all that happened to me, and what it meant to me, in exchange for Buckaroo’s safety and my own. And for one more thing.” 

“And what would that be?” Morgan asked calmly. Morgan who had the power to grant or refuse anything that I might ask. Morgan who had the power of life and death over my lover and I.

“That if Buckaroo wishes it, you make him a vampire.” 

I had, at least, the minor victory of surprise. Morgan looked at me, his eyebrows on the rise. Finally he said, “All right”. 

“Rawhide?” Buckaroo said beside me. “Why would you ask for such a thing?” 

“Don’t you see? Think of all you could accomplish, if you had not one lifetime, but many. You of all people deserve, and could make use of, immortality. Think of all the knowledge you could gain and pass on. The lives you could save. And think mostly on being as invincible as Morgan in your fight against Xan.” 

That last point was sharp enough to pierce through his confusion. Imagine simply walking into Xan’s fortress in Sabah, walking right up to him, and no one could hurt you or stop you from having your revenge for your parents’ deaths and your bride’s death. Buckaroo thought on this, as Morgan watched with glittering eyes. 

“We have seen,” I continued, “that a vampire is not, or need not be, a bad thing. A damned thing.” 

“You list some good points, Rawhide. But what of the worst? I have lost my parents, and Peggy twice, and I lost you once. If I became a vampire, then I would inevitably lose you again, and everyone else I love·. So I would not do such a thing, unless you did, too. Spending many lifetimes with you is something else to consider.” 

I had tears in my eyes, that he should think of me in this way. I looked over at Morgan, and he nodded, saying without words that, if we wished it, he would make us both vampires. 

Holding fast to Buckaroo’s hand, I sat on the floor before the vampire and spoke of my death, keeping my side of our illicit agreement. I spoke for a long time, my voice becoming hoarse, in an effort to tell the whole of it, the truth of it. I tried to explain what it all meant to me, what it might mean to people of other beliefs. The one thing I knew for certain was that this experience of mine was universal, that only the interpretation would differ for each mortal. I tried to explain that Buckaroo and Morgan would still have to find these truths themselves, that my telling them did not, and should not, change how they lived their lives. The sad thing was that the world tended to make even less sense after all was said and done. 

There was silence for a while after I had finished, and Buckaroo eventually turned to look at me with wonder in his eyes. “Thank you for sharing this,” he whispered. 

Morgan sat opposite us, quiet and thoughtful. “You have bought your safety,” he said. “Now only one thing remains. What is your decision, Buckaroo Banzai? Do you wish to be made a vampire?”

Buckaroo leant forward slightly. “Tell me all about this,” he said, an intense note in his voice. 

♦

“But, Felicia, women are _wasted_ in marriage.” 

“And not men?” Felicia and Perfect Tommy sat down across our table from us as Buckaroo and I silently ate our breakfast. I don’t think any of the four of us had had any sleep this past night.

Perfect Tommy came back immediately on Felicia’s question. “Not so much. Women have this wonderful capacity for caring and compassion, a maternal instinct for love…” 

“Do you think so?” Felicia remarked skeptically. 

“This is lost, it is perverted in a marriage, where a woman is tied down. She has so much to give, yet her generosity is stifled.” 

Felicia drew a deep breath. I got the impression she’d been listening all night and was finally going to set the record straight. “Perfect Tommy. Your ideas of what a good marriage is are wholly outdated. Marrying Billy is not going to stifle or pervert me in the slightest. And your ideas on categorizing men and women seem rather old-fashioned, too. 

“Take Rawhide and Buckaroo for example. Good morning, guys.” 

“Good morning, Felicia. Please do continue,” Buckaroo asked.

“This is an example of a good marriage. And, before you say anything, I’d like to note that your concern over the differences in gender only prove your whole point of view out of date and untrue. 

“Neither Buckaroo or Rawhide are stifled or tied down by their relationship. Both are free to come and go, and do as they please. That is what a good marriage is all about – a solid base of loving from which to live, not a fixed place in which to be trapped.” 

“Felicia…”

“As for your generalizations of what women are like, I think Rawhide here has more caring in his little finger than I could ever aspire to. And you may note that his relationship to Buckaroo does not in any way diminish his capacity to care for the rest of us. 

“Members of the jury, I rest my case.” 

“Bravo!” cried Buckaroo, and he and I applauded her mightily, to the quizzical stares of everyone else in the mess. Felicia stood and bowed, while Perfect Tommy sat there with open mouth and dazed expression. Maybe he hadn’t been expecting quite such a tirade. 

“You may also note,” Felicia added, sitting down, “that I am not going to apologize to Rawhide for any slight on his masculinity, and he wouldn’t have felt any slight either. Would you?” 

“No, indeed,” I hastened to reply. 

“Have a fun night, guys?” Felicia asked brightly. 

“An interesting one,” Buckaroo said. “And you?” 

“Oh, amid the arguments, we had a ball. Momma Lou’s was really hopping, I’ll tell you.” 

“Felicia,” Perfect Tommy broke in urgently. “It all comes down to this –” And, glancing at us, he lowered his voice, talking as seriously as I’d ever heard him. “I know you had a photo of me in your purse. I saw you looking at it. I can’t let you marry Billy if your heart is divided. I don’t want to see you unhappy.” 

Felicia, finally, seemed moved by his concern. Myself, I was simply relieved that he had had a reason for doubt, even though I couldn’t approve of his previous tactics. 

“Tommy, you’re a dear friend,” Felicia answered. “And while I love you, as I love everyone here, Billy is the only person I am in love with, the only person I wish to marry or even have an affair with. I am really touched at your concern. But I promise that you can set your mind at rest.” 

“The photo?” Tommy whispered. 

“That is my own concern.” 

Everyone was silent for a long moment. “I want to wish you all the best, Felicia,” Perfect Tommy said, rising to his feet. He held his hand out to be shaken, but Felicia stood to kiss him on the cheek. “Good morning,” Tommy said in farewell. “Morning, Buckaroo. Rawhide.” He nodded formally at us and walked out of the mess. I almost felt sorry for him for a moment. 

Felicia quietly finished her breakfast, and left us alone again. 

Buckaroo would appear despondent, I guess, to anyone who didn’t know him, but Felicia would have realized he was simply thinking over some problem. Only I knew how vastly important this particular problem was. 

“Of course, if we accept his offer,” Buckaroo said, returning to our intermittent, night-long conversation, “how much further do we take it? Why just you and me? Why not all the residents, the Cavaliers? Form a coven. Don’t they all deserve it? They are all that’s finest in humanity.” 

“Except Tommy. Don’t inflict Perfect Tommy on me for eternity.” 

Buckaroo smiled at my sour tone. “Maybe he’d learn something. I know you haven’t written him off completely.” 

“He’d take perfect advantage of all the perks of being a vampire, just as he has taken perfect advantage of being a Cavalier. He has no sense of proportion and little sense of decency.” 

“OK, OK. I know you’re not really so hard-hearted. He’s very young, Rawhide, and he’s had a hard life. I wouldn’t make him a vampire for a few years yet. You’ll see – he’ll learn and grow. He already has to a great extent. You would have loathed him before he served in the Foreign Legion.” 

“I can’t believe Felicia has a photo of him.” 

“Well, that’s another mystery we’ll probably never solve.” Buckaroo sighed. “Morgan gave us until midnight, and we have to make the hardest decision of our lives.” He looked at me, frowning. “The problem is, I can’t think of any _bad_ points to being a vampire. Everything is perfect for the vampire. And you don’t have to kill – your victims won’t feel or remember a thing. There’s no reason _not_ to go ahead and do it. I’ll even be able to finally defeat Xan and the World Crime League. I wish I could think of a reason not to do it.” 

“We wouldn’t be human anymore,” I suggested. 

“But we wouldn’t be unnatural, either. How can anyone say it’s unnatural? It’s merely unusual.” 

“But as you were saying – it’s such a good thing, how could we not offer it to the Cavaliers, to the people we love? It could get rather out of hand.” 

“If I keep wanting to say no, is it just because I’m afraid? If I think of not sharing it with my friends, am I just being selfish? It’s only because you are all that’s best in a human being, Rawhide – that you are strong and brave and full of love – that we were offered this at all. How can we refuse? How can we not refuse? Will you not tell me what choice to make?” 

“Don’t ask me, Buckaroo. I’d have to say that you should do it, because I love you so. Because then I’d know that no one could ever hurt you, and because I know how important it is to you to have your revenge on Xan. But I can’t make the decision for you, Buckaroo. Just know that I’ll follow you in anything you choose to do.” 

“Maybe,” he said slowly. “Maybe I do not wish to forego the wonders you spoke of last night.” 

“Eventually you need not. Morgan said that many of the vampires he’d known had eventually chosen death. Though I can’t quite see you ever giving up on life.”

“I know what my answer will be,” said Buckaroo. And I knew it, too. “But I feel I should say no. Would my father have said yes? I cannot think what anyone else would do. Would Reno say yes?” 

“It is not like you to doubt yourself so, Buckaroo. Trust your instincts.” 

He looked at me, skeptical and resigned at once. “That’s generally a good working policy, Rawhide. That’s generally the right one.” And he sighed, smiling a little to ease my heart. 

♦

I was amused and impressed to see Perfect Tommy turn up faithfully at Felicia’s aerobics class later that day. Buckaroo was off in the labs with the Professor, so we were the only guys for once, and we hid up the back. My mind, though, was a million miles away and I kept doing everything wrong. Was Buckaroo going to accept Morgan’s offer? What would it mean, what would it all be like? Imagine never having to worry about Buckaroo’s safety ever again… 

Perfect Tommy, beside me, seemed just as lost in his thoughts as I was. My mind thankfully stopped running around in circles and started worrying about him instead. Perfect Tommy loved women. Adored them. I’d always figured he’d offer any woman anything, excepting only marriage. Felicia was dear to us all, of course, but she and Tommy had become close friends. Surely Tommy wasn’t going to perversely set his heart on the one woman who’d told him no. Indeed, I started fearing this as I reflected on the fact that Perfect Tommy was usually such a gentleman that if he knew a woman would tell him no (and he was very experienced in these things) he wouldn’t bother her with the question in the first place, he would simply be her friend. He’d had many close and true friendships with women, especially among the Cavaliers. And Felicia suddenly seemed like an anomaly in his history. 

The music had ended and Tommy and I were still sitting reflecting on the floor. Felicia stood over us holding back her laughter. “Surely _one_ night on the tiles doesn’t have this sad effect on you two big men.” 

Felicia looked lovely, flushed and sparkling after our exertions. Tommy gazed up at her quizzically, slowly. Maybe he was wishing –

“We must be getting old,” I put in. “Just can’t take this bohemian lifestyle anymore.” I stood, grabbing Tommy’s hand and pulling him up with me. “Come on, Tommy. A shower is definitely called for.” 

He pulled himself together with a visible effort, and started his usual type of banter, if a little weakly. “Good heavens, Felicia, wouldn’t I be safer in the women’s locker room than alone with this oaf in the men’s showers?” 

“I’m safe from _your_ charms, Perfect Tommy,” I assured him, playing along to fill in his silences. “But you can daydream if you want.”

“Oh, thank you very much!” And he laughed, losing that introspective look. “If I ever turned my charms on you, you wouldn’t know what hit you!” 

“You forget,” I told him, “I’ve been seduced by the most beautiful man in the world. You may pale a little by comparison.” I blushed then, realizing what I’d said. When Reno describes me in his books, it’s generally as “taciturn” and “humorless”. And I’d _never_ discussed Buckaroo or my feelings for him with _anyone_.

But Felicia was regarding me fondly. “You two are the sweetest pair. I can only hope Billy and I will be half as happy together.” She turned and disappeared. I looked over at Perfect Tommy. He looked as distracted as he’d done before my ineffectual bantering, but now had a set to his mouth that meant trouble. 

“Come on,” I said, leading him off out of sight to the showers. Buckaroo’s words came back to me – “He’s very young, Rawhide, and he’s had a hard life.” I watched Tommy, knowing the look on his face. He was planning something. He’d look like this on a mission when he had to figure out a strike. “You’re not being sensible,” I told him. “You’re not thinking straight.” 

“Since when was love sensible?” he flashed back at me. 

“Are you so sure it’s love?” I asked gently. 

He flared into anger. “Don’t tell me it’s because she turned me down. That’s ridiculous.” 

“Then don’t get so upset about it.” 

“I just need some time,” he muttered. 

“What for? You think she’ll change her mind? I don’t think that’s very likely.” 

“What do you know? What do you know about women?” 

“Quite as much as you,” I said calmly against his livid glare. 

But he was already paling, his anger dissolving into sorrow. “Dear God, Rawhide, I didn’t mean – Please don’t take that –” He sat down, still half-undressed, hanging his head dejectedly. “I’m losing my mind. I don’t want to lose your friendship as well.” 

“It’s all right,” I told him. “But you have to forget this with Felicia. You did your best, and she said no. Leave it at that.” 

“I know you’re right, but I’ve got to do _something_.” 

“I think you’ve done quite enough. You’re not being fair on this woman you say you love.” 

“She had my picture,” Perfect Tommy said miserably, head in his hands. “Maybe she really is in love with me.” 

“She knows you too well, friend.” 

He looked up at me, as humble as I’d ever seen him, and slowly said, “You’re probably right about that. No doubt you’re absolutely right.” 

♦

I wandered into the bunkhouse as the sun was setting, looking for Buckaroo, but only finding Felicia and Reno hunched over one of the computers. “Something about loving him truly,” Felicia was saying. 

“How about this…” and Reno typed something in. 

“That’s beautiful, Reno.” 

Reno, of course, was helping Billy and Felicia write their wedding vows. “Didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said. They didn’t even hear me. I wandered on through to see if Buckaroo was hiding in the study, and on the way almost tripped over Perfect Tommy’s inert form behind a sofa. He indicated that he was there surreptitiously, so I bent down by one of the bookcases. “Just looking for a book,” I said aloud in case Felicia or Reno were paying attention. “What are you doing here?” I whispered to Tommy. 

“Being a fool, I know, I know,” he whispered back. “Don’t you dare lecture me.” 

“Me?” I feigned innocence. “Anyhow, I’ve lectured you enough for one day, and you obviously weren’t listening, so what’s the point?” 

Felicia’s voice floated over. “That bit about caring for him, and honoring him…” 

Tommy looked paler than ever. “What do I do?” he whispered urgently. “Rawhide, what do I do? I can’t go on like this, if there’s a chance that she… What did _you_ do?” 

“What did I do when?” 

“You found yourself in much the same situation with Buckaroo, right?” 

I sat down beside him, remembering those long, long days of unrequited love, happily hopeless in my helpless passion. I wouldn’t have changed a moment of it for the world. “I was patient,” I told Perfect Tommy. “I was his friend. Before anything else, I was his friend.” 

“Patient? But he wasn’t getting married – it’s only a week until Felicia’s wedding now.” 

I sat there with my eyebrows raised. 

“Good God, what am I saying? Of course he was getting married and all… How on earth did you cope?” 

“I had about as little hope that he’d fall in love with me as you do with Felicia. And it was a joy to me to see him so happy with Peggy.” 

He just sat there looking at me. “You’re a very generous person, Rawhide.” 

I shrugged. “I loved her, too. I could hardly have wished anyone better for him.” 

“I couldn’t be that generous, or that patient.” 

“You’re the perfect one, Tommy, not me.” 

He sat there staring at me, and after a while started laughing sadly, ironically. I reached to take one of his hands in mine. 

“Is this a private party, or can anyone join in?” came Buckaroo’s amused voice from above us. I looked up at him, with my hand still clutched in Tommy’s. 

“I’m just wondering why you named me Perfect,” Tommy said. 

“Because you are,” was Buckaroo’s easy reply. He sat down with us. It was getting to be a little crowded behind that sofa. I wondered if Felicia or Reno had noticed us yet. 

“Maybe when I learn humility and generosity and patience.” 

“Is that your idea of what perfect is?” Buckaroo asked. “Then that’s what you should be.” 

“Yeah,” Perfect Tommy sighed. When he looked up, his usual quirky smile was back on his face. “Now I guess I’ll have to get out of here the same way I came in.” 

“And how was that?” 

“On my hands and knees under that table and behind that chair.” 

He made his way quietly out of the room, and I turned to Buckaroo. “I knew you weren’t so hard-hearted,” he said to me. I shrugged, and he leant to kiss me. “I missed you today.” 

“I was hardly going to interrupt you and Hikita-san at your work,” I said drily. 

“Let me take you out to dinner. Italian food, chianti and candlelight.” 

“Sounds good to me. Since when did we afford dinners out?” 

“We didn’t. Can you manage to stop being so practical for just one evening?” 

I smiled. “For you, I can maybe manage it.” 

“Good man,” he said approvingly. 

“And then?” 

He gazed into my eyes, reached to run his fingers along my cheek. “And then to Morgan’s, dearheart. All right?”

“All right.”

♦

We watched the sun rise with our new vampire eyes. Morgan stood beside us, smiling indulgently at our childish wonder. Everything was newer, clearer, brighter, deeper. I couldn’t take my eyes off my dear Buckaroo for long. His beauty dazzled me. He gazed around at everything, taking in his new world with a delighted grin, his eyes pure sapphires rivalling the light of the stars. 

I held his outstretched hand, his skin as cool and white and enduring as marble, as soft and pliant as velvet. I ran my fingers through his midnight-dark hair, fine and strong and mysteriously alive. He turned to laugh up at me, finding beauty in me, too. “Creature of the Night,” I whispered to him, adoring him. Even his kiss was impossibly softer, wilder, going like potent wine to my head. 

As the sun rose higher I took Buckaroo to Morgan’s bed, made sweet, inflamed love to him with my new vampire body. Then we slept the sleep of the undead with Morgan beside us, Buckaroo in my tight embrace. 

♦

We walked the city streets for a while, for a short while, until a man asked us to join him for a siesta. We made love again, tirelessly, ensuring he received all the pleasure he desired and more. Afterwards, as we held him between us, warm and sated in our arms, I pulsed out the thought to send him into a trance. Then Buckaroo watched me as I carefully, reverently bit into the man’s skin, as I lapped at his slow-running blood. When I was done, Buckaroo followed suit. We only needed a mouthful each, and I liked to think the man would consider it a fair trade.

We left him lying on his bed in the filtered afternoon sunlight, still sleepy, still lovely, his breath easy through a smile that told of contented dreams. 

♦

We ran through the forests, laughing, stretching our strong new bodies to their limits, quietly, quickly speeding over the miles. The night, illuminated by the stars, seemed frostily bright. Buckaroo led the way, skipping and running amid the undergrowth, leaping the streams, the fallen logs, chasing a wayward fox, jumping to land in the boughs of the largest tree. 

I clambered up after him, and we climbed as high as we could, looking out over a sea of foliage to the far lights of our home by the Delaware. 

“And tonight’s a full moon!” Buckaroo laughed. 

♦

We tumbled together into the bunkhouse, still glowing from our ramble, still warm from our acquaintance’s pure blood. Buckaroo wouldn’t let me go, his arms tight around my waist. A good half of the Cavaliers were there, staring at us, a little puzzled as if they couldn’t figure out just what had changed in us. 

I looked to Buckaroo, my smile dying. Now was not the time to make a general announcement to all and sundry. Buckaroo reached up to kiss me, his grin broad, his eyes shining. And everyone began smiling indulgently. I guess Buckaroo did it deliberately – they all thought we’d fallen in love all over again, or that Buckaroo was finally less shy in showing his love for me. 

He still wouldn’t let go of me, so I made my way over to a sofa with him in tow. 

“We were just going to break out Trivial Pursuit,” Mrs Johnson said. 

“Oh, no,” Pecos cried. “Don’t let Buckaroo and Rawhide play as a team – they always win.” 

“I guess that’s our bad luck,” Reno commented. “It doesn’t look like we could get them apart with a crowbar tonight.” 

They started setting up the game. I couldn’t keep my eyes or hands or lips off Buckaroo in his fey mood. He sat gazing at our friends. “Reno and Pecos first,” he whispered. 

“Then Mrs Johnson, and Felicia and Billy,” I agreed. 

New Jersey strode in, decked out as ever in his ten-gallon hat. “Oh, guys,” he said, his brow furrowed, hands protesting. “No – I’m only good at the green ones.” 

“That’s all right. Mrs Johnson’s good at all the rest. You can team up with her.” 

He tipped his hat as gentlemanly as ever, and sat by her, murmuring some apology no doubt. Mrs Johnson looked him over with a wry smile. “That’s OK, Flyboy was pretty useless at this, too.” 

“Ah, yes, I’ve been meaning to ask…” New Jersey started, finally making his move and looking even more serious than usual if that was even possible. I didn’t catch the rest of their whispered conversation, but Mrs Johnson looked rather amused by the end of it. She shrugged and blushed a little as she caught me watching them. 

Perfect Tommy burst in with a new-to-us woman on his arm. “Buckaroo sets a midnight curfew, you see, just so that he gets his nightly game of Trivial Pursuit,” he was telling her. 

“Doesn’t he let you play any other games?” she pouted, laughing at him as we all did. 

“Only if we ask his permission first,” Perfect Tommy told her, perfectly straight-faced. She almost took him seriously for a moment. “This is Danny,” he introduced her to the laughing faces. She smiled all round as he ran quickly through everyone’s names, and she never batted an eyelid at finding Buckaroo Banzai cuddled up close to one of his male Cavaliers. 

The game finally began in earnest, ending maybe an hour later in riotous, obscure and drunken hints as we’d felt we should introduce Danny to the delights of Karakoumiss immediately. The drink had certainly started our friendship with Reno off with a bang. We all sat around, increasingly maudlin, Tommy bringing out his guitar to accompany our reminiscences. Danny listened wide-eyed before getting game enough to tell a few anecdotes of her own that left us in stiches. 

Maybe it was three in the morning. A few people had gone to bed. Most of the rest of us sat around in each other’s arms, or having pleasantly drunken philosophical debates, or both. 

I nuzzled into Buckaroo’s neck as he lazily held me close, perfectly at ease amongst our friends, our diverse and loving family. Without thinking, I bit into his skin and took a little of his blood. His fingers dug into me and he stifled his involuntary groan of pleasure. I clutched him close, his blood hot and so alive within me, unable to quite comprehend the sheer sensuality of blending his vampire life with mine. He murmured my name, seeming as delightedly overcome as I was. 

But our reverie was soon interrupted by cries of dismay from Billy and Felicia. I looked over to see them by the computers. “It’s all gone! Our vows and everything have been wiped. Even the guest list.” 

I tried not to turn my gaze to Tommy, but I remembered that look on his face only that afternoon. Was this what he’d been planning on? He’d said he wanted more time. Then I realized that virtually everyone else in the bunkhouse was looking at Tommy anyway. 

He slowly stood under the accusing stares, Danny beside him wondering what was going on. “Hey, guys,” he protested, sounding just like New Jersey, “I gave up practical jokes when I was twelve.” 

I noticed Billy, who had been politely reticent over the past few days, starting to look a little frayed around the edges. 

“Well, who the hell else would do such a thing?” 

“Disks aren’t infallible,” Tommy stuttered. “Come on – it could have been anything. Why on earth would anyone sabotage your wedding vows?” 

“Why indeed,” Billy was muttering, turning away. Tommy was looking the perfect picture of righteously indignant innocence. Billy was looking like he would have wanted to hit something if he wasn’t so determinedly civilized. 

“Hold it!” Felicia cried out. “Before all this gets any further out of hand, I have a confession to make. And it’s not going to be easy to take, but I guess it’s time for the truth.” She rummaged around in her bag. “Tommy saw me mooning over a photo a few days ago, and thought it was of him. I suppose he only caught the blonde hair as I quickly pushed it out of sight. But here it is – and I call you all to witness – as you can see, the photo is of… Billy Idol!” 

She held it aloft to cries of horror from around the room. I thought it was quite a cute photo actually. 

“Surely you have more taste, Felicia,” Perfect Tommy chipped in. “Honestly, I gave you credit for having far more taste than that.” 

Billy reached over to pull her into his arms. “You fool,” he said fondly. 

“Can you ever forgive me?” 

“For liking Billy Idol? Only just. Only if you marry me next Saturday.” 

“What about our vows?” 

He kissed her. “Just tell me you love me. That’s vow enough.” 

Buckaroo was laughing quietly. “Thank heavens that’s all sorted out.” 

“I wonder what happened to the disk though,” I pondered. 

“Ah, come on – you’ve had your quota of mysteries solved tonight.” He gazed up at me, blue blue eyes bright. “What would you say if I told you I have a tape of _Whiplash Smile_ hidden away in my room?” 

I grinned. “I guess I’d offer to come around with my tape of _Rebel Yell_ , and party.” 

“Let’s party, then.” 

“Oh yeah,” I murmured in his ear, standing to pull him up with me. “Oh yeah, _forever_.”

♦


End file.
